


Friends Don't

by thelastjedi



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:41:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21524617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelastjedi/pseuds/thelastjedi
Summary: There are a lot of things that happen in regular friendships, but is friendship all you have with Steve?
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Reader
Kudos: 49





	Friends Don't

_([ **Based** )](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FwMTAgk9RLI)_.

**_Friends don’t cancel other plans and have conversations with nothing but their eyes._ **

You were exhausted, to say the least. Between college and your job, the week had felt never-ending but finally, you’d made it to the weekend and all you really wanted to do was sit on the couch with some take-out and Netflix to unwind.

Your friends, however, had other plans.

“So, we’re hitting Josie’s tonight, right?” Clint asked, looking expectantly at each of his friends.

An enthusiastic chorus of agreement followed his question from everyone except you, although nobody really seemed to notice. Nobody but Steve.

His eyes fell on you almost immediately and did a quick scan of your appearance — not to judge _you_ , but to judge your mental state. There were bags under your eyes, your hair was slightly unkempt, he was fairly certain you’d been wearing the same pair of jeans for the past few days and you looked as if hadn’t been listening to a word they’d been saying.

At that moment, your head lifted and your eyes met. You were running on fumes, that much was clear. Steve knew you. He knew how you overworked yourself while insisting that you were fine. He knew how you would sometimes forget and accidentally skip a meal. He knew you didn’t want to go anywhere tonight but that you would most likely force yourself so you didn’t disappoint your friends.

“Actually, I’m beat,” Steve said suddenly. “I’m probably just gonna head home for the day.”

“Boring!” Tony commented before Natasha punched his arm.

You rolled your eyes in amusement while also wondering why Steve had changed his mind. Steve, who was subtly raising a brow in your direction… _Oh_. He was giving you an out. If he cancelled then you could too, without feeling guilty.

“Uh, I think I’m gonna bail, too,” you said. “I’m exhausted.”

Your words were met with dramatic outcries from the group.

“What are you two? The elderly?” Sam joked.

“Who’s going to be my wingwoman?” Wanda pouted.

“THE NIGHT IS RUINED!” yelled Scott.

The conversation then quickly shifted because _“goddammit Scott, we’re in public”_ and you allowed yourself to relax again. As Scott quickly jumped to defend himself — _“I thought we were all being theatrical!”_ — you snuck a glance at Steve who dropped his eye into a wink.

You swear your heart swelled.

* * *

A few hours later and you were living the dream. Dressed in your favourite pyjamas with the TV on and your dog curled up at your feet; the only thing you were missing was some food and you’d be completely satisfied.

Your phone had been going off all night, filled with Snapchats of your friends getting drunker and drunker as time went on but you didn’t mind. The most recent video had been of Bucky attempting to floss which slowly zoomed in on Sam in the background, watching with the most disappointed expression you’ve ever seen on a person.

You were just pressing send on your reply as a notification from Steve came through - an image of him walking down the street with a bag of Chinese takeout in hand. Your stomach immediately rumbled and you sent a drooling emoji in response (to the food, of course) before resuming your show.

You became so absorbed in the emotions of the episode that you almost missed the knocking at your door. Quickly pausing the show, you approached the door and peered through the peephole (it was late and you lived alone; you weren’t taking any chances), the view on the other side taking you by surprise.

“Are you gonna keep watching me or are you gonna let me in?”

Rolling your eyes, you complied.

“Finally,” Steve said as he walked by you into your home the same way he always did. He didn’t need an invitation. “The food is getting cold. I figured you’d be hungry.”

“What are you doing here?” you asked before quickly explaining yourself. “I mean, not that I don’t _want_ you here.”

“What? You thought I’d leave my best girl alone when she’s feeling rough? I would never.”

“My hero,” you joked in response to cover up your blushing cheeks. “I’ll get us some drinks.”

Making your way into the kitchen, you left Steve to unpack the food and made quick work of grabbing two glasses and a bottle of your favourite soda.

“So what are we watching?” Steve asked when you re-entered the room, his face falling in realisation when he looked at the TV. “You started Queer Eye without me?!”

“A new season dropped and you just expect me not to watch it?” you scoffed.

Steve fell into his natural place next to you on the sofa and your dog, who had been all over him since he arrived, quickly jumped between the two of you to rest his head in Steve’s lap.

“Well, go back to the beginning,” Steve told you, his hand absent-mindedly scratching behind your dog’s ears. “It’s the least you could do for your betrayal.”

“Drama queen.”

Nevertheless, you did as requested and a comfortable silence fell over you, broken only by the occasional scraping of forks and bursts of laughter at the television. When the first episode ended and the countdown for the next one began, you took the opportunity to speak.

“You don’t have to be here, y‘know,” you told Steve quietly. “You can still meet up with the others.”

“Nah,” he responded, reaching over to steal one of your egg rolls. “I’m happy where I am.”

**_They don’t call you in the middle of the night, couldn’t even tell you why; they just felt like saying hi._ **

Steve couldn’t sleep.

His neighbours were being too loud, his bed was too uncomfortable. He’d been tossing and turning for the last few hours, mentally calculating how many hours of rest he’d get if he actually fell asleep right now which only served to stress him out further. When it finally got to 3AM, he’d all but given up.

With a sigh, Steve threw back the covers and switched on his lamp. The light shone over his phone which rested on his bedside cabinet and he shook his head. 

_Don’t_ , he told himself. _She’s asleep. But… what if she wasn’t?_

Before he could talk himself out of it, he was already grabbing the phone, dialing your number and holding the phone to his ear, listening to it ring with bated breath. After the third tone, he was about to resign himself to hanging up when the familiar _click_ came and he heard a rustle on the other end.

“Steve?” you spoke through a yawn. “Are you okay?”

Shit. He _had_ woken you up.

“I- yeah,” he said, suddenly embarrassed. What the hell was he thinking? “Uh, I’m sorry for waking you. I shouldn’t have called—”

“Wait, wait,” you cut his self-reprimands short before he could spiral any further. “It’s okay, I was awake… Well, half awake. What’s going on?”

A pause.

“Just wanted to say hi.” From his end of the call, Steve winced, falling back onto his pillows in chagrin. What kind of reason was that to call someone at this time of the morning? Just to say… hey, how’s it going? _Idiot_. 

There was another pause. In reality, it only lasted a few seconds but to him, it felt like hours.

“Hi,” was your only response. It wasn’t hard to hear the smile in your voice. “Is that all?”

“Kind of,” Steve chuckled in the quiet of his room. “Probably should’ve thought of something else, huh?”

“I don’t mind.” 

Your voice was soft, the way it always was when you spoke to him, but the hushed words seemed even gentler in the early hours of the morning. Despite talking on the phone together several times before, there was something more intimate about it this time— just you and him in bed (albeit separately) where the rest of the world couldn’t interrupt.

Something about this idea eased Steve’s mind almost instantly, and it wasn’t long before both of you fell asleep, your phones still connected as they slipped out of your tired grips.

**_Friends don’t stand around playing with their keys, finding reasons not to leave, trying to hide the chemistry._ **

The club you had hired out for the night was a mess. There was glitter all over the floor, pieces of confetti fallen into tiny cracks you didn’t think anything could even fit into. Silver and red balloons lined the ceiling while others were tied down to sit in bunches at every corner of the room.

Natasha’s birthday celebration had gone off without a hitch. Drinks were shared (and spilled), songs were sung, the cake was eaten. Scott had even gotten up on the small stage to perform a powerful rendition of a Celine Dion song halfway through the night and you’re unsure if he genuinely sounded good or if it was just the alcohol talking.

But eventually, in the early hours of the morning, the party had come to an end. The crowds had started filtering out at around 11PM with Fitz and Simmons heading home to relieve their babysitter and by the time it reached 2AM, there was only a handful of people left, grabbing their coats and saying goodbye. Natasha herself had already given you a big hug and thanked you profusely before being herded out to her taxi by Daisy.

“Do you need help cleaning up?” Wanda asked as she shouldered her bag, ever polite.

“No, no, don’t worry,” you told her with a smile. “I’ve got it.”

Wanda cast a disbelieving look around the room.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive,” you nodded. “Go get some sleep. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

After a little more convincing, Wanda finally left with Bucky, who offered to take her home, having already given himself the role of designated driver earlier in the day.

That just left you to tackle the mess alone, throwing the disposable cups that seemed to be multiplying into trash bags as the music (which had been turned down severely) continued to keep you company in the background. You hummed along quietly, singing the odd line or two that you actually knew as you worked. Your fingers worked nimbly to tie a knot in the finally full bag just as a voice spoke from behind.

“Want some help?”

“Holy shit!”

The bag that you had been holding fell to the ground as you jumped, several of the sneaky cups rolling out across the ground and landing at the feet of the source of your fright. With a hand pressed to your chest, your eyes finally landed on Steve, who was playing with his keys with a sheepish grin.

“Jesus, Steve,” you sighed. “You scared the shit out of me. I thought everyone had left already.”

“Sorry,” he replied earnestly. “I went to the bathroom and then came out to see you cleaning up by yourself. Couldn’t let _that_ happen, could I?”

“You sound like Wanda,” you joked. “It’s okay to go. This shouldn’t take long.”

It took a brief moment of deliberation before Steve was shoving his keys back into his pocket and quickly scooping the cups up off the floor.

“Fine,” you agreed as he took the bag from your hands to finish your task. “Just this once.”

You were rewarded with a charming smile before the two of you got back to work, and around half an hour later, the place was relatively clean again. The bartops had been freed of confetti, the floor wiped of any spillages, and Steve had generously taken all the trash bags outside on your behalf. Both of you had even wrapped up any remaining food from the evening and were going to drop it off at a shelter the next day. No point in food going to waste, after all.

Brushing your hands off, you placed your hands on your hips as you surveyed the area. “Well, I think that’s about it.”

“Gotta say, I think we make a pretty good team,” Steve smiled and grabbed the spare trays of food. You busied yourself with picking up the boots you had discarded a few hours earlier, which had turned out to be more painful than they were worth.

“I think you’re right,” you agreed.

Steve’s smile never wavered as he balanced the trays on one arm and retrieved his keys back from his jean pocket. “Need a ride home?”

Your eyes narrowed slightly. “Weren’t you drinking, too?”

“I had one beer at the start and nothing but diet coke since. I’m good, I promise,” he placed a hand over his heart. “You know I’d never put you in harm’s way.”

You did know that. If there’s one thing you can say about Steve, it’s that while he wasn’t necessarily _perfect_ — he took too long in the shower, laughed a little too loudly, had a habit of putting everyone else before himself — he was certainly a good man. Nobody could deny that.

“Okay,” you nodded. “I trust you.”

“C’mon,” he slung his arm around your shoulders as you both made your way outside. “Let’s get you to bed before you get cranky.”

“ _Hey!_ ”

**_Friends don’t drive a little too slow and always take the long way home._ **

“Thanks again for coming with me.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Steve,” you waved him off from your place in the passenger seat. “Your family is awesome.”

A few days ago, you and Steve had travelled back to his hometown for his mother’s birthday. It was only supposed to be Steve initially, but for reasons unknown to him, Sarah had asked for him to bring you along, too. She had already met you briefly when she had come to visit a few months ago, but with Steve mentioning your name in conversation at an increased frequency recently, she decided it was time to properly meet the girl her son was quite obviously doting after, whether he himself knew it or not.

* * *

_“So, uh, this is gonna sound weird,” Steve had told you, breaking the silence that had fallen over your room._

_You glanced up from the laptop that lay on your stomach. “What is?”_

_“You know how I was going to go see my mom for her birthday?”_

_“Yeah?”_

_Steve toyed with the fraying pages of the book in his hand. “She asked for you to come.”_

_Now_ that _got your attention. Placing your laptop next to you, you sat up and tilted your head in confusion._

_“She wants to see me?” you asked, suddenly nervous. “Why?”_

_“I don’t know,” Steve shrugged. He had a theory, of course, but he wasn’t about to discuss his mother’s attempts at playing matchmaker right now. “Guess she just wants to meet my friends properly this time.”_

_“So… it’d just be me and you?”_

_“Usually Bucky comes too but he can’t this year,” Steve said. “So, yeah…. me and you.”_

_You chewed your lower lip in thought. Clearly, Steve felt a little awkward asking, and you’d be lying if you said the idea of staying in his childhood home with his mother didn’t make you a little anxious… but this was_ Steve _you were talking about. You could never say no to him._

_“Okay.”_

_Steve’s head snapped up to meet your eyes. “Okay?”_

_“Yeah,” you nodded. “I’ll go.”_

_The relieved smile you were given told you that you were making the right decision._

* * *

And it turned out, you had.

The visit had gone ridiculously well, despite your initial trepidation. Steve’s mother (who insisted you call her Sarah, not Mrs. Rogers) was just as sweet and caring as her son, and had made you feel at home in a matter of minutes. While Steve stayed in his old bedroom, Sarah ensured the spare room had fresh sheets for you to sleep in, although she had asked at first if the two of you would be sharing a room, to which you and Steve both spluttered in surprise and voiced your denials. Sarah had held her hands up in acquiescence but had a small smile on her lips the whole time.

“Mom seemed to like you,” Steve smiled as he kept his hand on the wheel. You had both left for home around an hour and a half ago, and it wouldn’t take long before you were back in your own bed again.

“She was so nice,” you shook your head in disbelief. “What is it with you Rogers’ and being incredibly charming?”

“I’m charming?” Steve chuckled.

“Oh, shut up,” you replied. “You know you are.”

“ _Take the next left._ ”

Steve frowned as he glanced at the navigation device on his dashboard that had rudely interrupted.

“What?” you asked him. “That’s the latest in JARVIS technology, Steve-o. It knows what it’s talking about.”

“Yeah,” he nodded distractedly, tapping his fingers against the wheel. “I know.”

Yet, when he reached the upcoming intersection, Steve turned right.

“Uh, you know it said left, right?” you pointed to the device.

“Yep,” Steve glanced over at you and shrugged sheepishly. “Just thought we’d take the scenic route. It might take a little longer though.”

“You mean spending the last three days with me wasn’t enough?” you joked with a grin.

Steve shook his head, a fond smile growing on his face. 

“Of course not.”

**_Friends don’t almost say “I love you” when they’re downtown somewhere, just a little drunk._ **

The sound of your heels clicking against the pavement mixed smoothly with the uproarious laughter from your friend group who made their way through the streets after a frankly overpriced (yet delicious) meal at a local restaurant. You had all agreed to go out for the night to celebrate the end of exams so of course, quite a few of you were either tipsy or beyond.

Despite having consumed the most alcohol out of everyone, Natasha led the way to Tony’s house where you had all agreed to sleep over with an enviable amount of grace as she chatted with Sharon, while Bucky had his arm hovering behind a more than buzzed Wanda in fear of her tripping or falling to the ground. Steve found himself walking next to you and mimicking his best friend, hand poised to reach out for you at a moment’s notice.

You barely even registered his actions as you and Carol belted out an Alanis Morissette song — Carol had a preference for 90’s songs — with Scott and Sam loudly providing the instrumentation and holding out invisible mics for passersby to join in. So far, every single one of them had either given the men a bemused look and walked on or bluntly told them to fuck off. The group remained unfazed and seemed to think their impromptu concert that nobody asked for was going pretty well.

Three songs and your second rendition of a Britney Spears song later — Scott swore that if nobody sang _Slave 4 U_ with him then he was going home right that second — your newly formed band finally bid their crowd goodnight to almost comical cheers and applause from your friends. By the time you’d reached Tony’s place, you were exhausted.

You all but collapsed onto the couch while some of the others went into the kitchen to raid the wine cabinet. “God, performing really takes it out of you.”

Steve snorted, reaching down to help you pull off your shoes before he too fell back into his seat. “Yeah, that encore sure was something.”

“I have _no_ idea how I didn’t fall on my ass in those things,” you nodded towards your discarded heels.

“Don’t worry, I was keeping an eye on you.”

Your brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“I made sure you didn’t do any damage to yourself, that’s what I mean,” Steve explained.

You paused, searching through your currently fuzzy brain and briefly recalling a moment during your Spice Girls cover in which you tried to get Steve to dance with you and almost tripped over an old lady walking her dog. For some reason, you hadn’t hit the pavement and just considered it dumb luck before jumping back into the lyrics. What you didn’t realise was that Steve had grabbed the back of your jacket just in time to keep you upright. You silently cursed his ability to handle his own alcohol like a pro.

“Aw, Steeeeve,” you rested your head against the back of the couch and reached a clumsy hand out to pat his. “You’re always looking out for me, huh?”

“Yeah,” Steve grinned with a roll of his eyes. “You’re lucky I—”

When it became clear that he wasn’t going to finish, you spoke up.

“Hm?”

Steve’s mouth opened and closed as he considered his words. After a second, he finally shook his head and gave a weak smile. It wasn’t like you’d even remember the conversation anyway. “Doesn’t matter.”

Before you had a chance to urge him on, Natasha and Clint appeared with even more drinks for everyone who sprawled themselves out across the living room, and the night continued on.

**_Friends don’t talk about the future and put each other in it and get chills with every accidental touch._ **

“Will you remember me when you’re a big hotshot artist with fancy galleries opened in every country?”

Steve laughed, his fingers picking at the slice of pizza in his hand. The final year of college was quickly approaching, and while Steve figured you’d end up having this conversation at some point, he hadn’t thought it would happen so soon.

“Will _you_ still remember _me_ when you’re a big hotshot author with bestselling novels in every country?” he retorted.

“Oh, please,” you snorted before taking a sip of your drink. “You know I’ll be calling you up to make the cover art _every_ time.”

“Yeah?”

“Duh,” you said as if it were obvious, knocking your knee against his. “You think I’d forget about you?”

“Of course not,” Steve ducked his head and grinned. “I told you already; you’re stuck with me.”

“Thank god for that.”

Steve’s eyes softened as he looked over at you, his stomach tightening at you refusing to even consider the possibility of losing touch. You glanced at him through bites of pizza and smiled, your cheeks puffing out like a chipmunk as you ate and he suddenly felt like he’d been hit by a bus. The realisation hit him all at once, the feeling he’d been trying to push down since the celebration dinner — hell, even _before_ then — filling every fiber of his being.

Both his mother and Bucky had figured it out before he did, giving him encouraging words and little nudges every now and then to finally spill the beans but he denied it all.

Until now.

Steve fidgeted in his seat, feeling the overwhelming urge to just spit it out already. What if you didn’t feel the same way? But no… No, you _had_ to. Didn’t you?

Through the years, Steve had kept telling himself that this might be nothing but one look in your eyes and god, he swears there’s _something_. 

“Hey,” he said, clearing his throat. “I… I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.”

Sensing that this might not be a regular conversation, you placed your plate on the coffee table in front of you to give him your full attention. “What’s up?”

Steve took a deep breath.

“Have you ever thought about how our friendship isn’t exactly… normal?”

Your stomach sank.

“What?” you frowned. “I’m not your friend?”

“No, no, of course you are!” he quickly said, hating the crestfallen look that crossed your face. “I just mean… We’re with each other almost every day, and if we’re not there in person, we’re constantly texting. You’re the first person I think about when I wake up and the last before I go to sleep. Hell, we’ve been mistaken for a couple on more than one occasion already.”

Your lips parted in soft surprise and your voice came out weaker than anticipated. “What are you saying?”

“Everything we do… Is it normal? Is it something that just _friends_ do?” he asked, not unkindly.

You couldn’t speak. Every word in your vocabulary seemed to flee your brain and you were left a gaping mess. Your heart thumped against your chest, your palms were sweating.

“You can lie to me and say you don’t,” Steve continued, “but I think you do.”

He didn’t have to explain. You knew exactly what he was accusing you of and you found that you couldn’t even deny it. He was right— of _course_ he was right. Admittedly, you had thought you’d been pretty good at covering it up but it hadn’t been long before Natasha and Wanda figured it out, closely followed by Bucky. Even Steve’s mother had made a brief comment about it the last time you saw her.

Swallowing hard, a shaky exhale left your lips and you nodded.

“I do,” you told him.

A hesitant hand reached out and you allowed Steve’s fingers to intertwine with yours, his thumb brushing against your skin. The television that played in the background, the dog that barked distantly outside, any other sound in the world that wasn’t Steve’s voice seemed to fall on deaf ears.

“I love you, too,” he replied.


End file.
